Not Such a Bad Guy
by aelitaheiderich
Summary: A series of drabbles where Adam tries to prove to Henry that he's not such a bad guy after all.
1. Chapter 1

A/N:Hey, everyone. I've been watching a show called "Forever" on ABC and I have to confess, it's awesome! If you haven't seen it, make sure you see it! Anyways, this idea came to me and it hasn't let me alone for the past few days, so I wrote it. This story is a series of drabbles where Adam tries to prove to Henry that he's not as bad as Henry thinks he is. If you like it, I'll write some more!

A Good Night's Rest

The phone ringing at 4 am was not a welcome start to the day. Barely awake, Henry stumbled his way out of bed and toward the ringing nuisance that had awoken him. He tripped a bit on the rug, recovered, and lifted the handset from the cradle. "Hello?"

"Henry?"

"Jo?" Henry glanced at the clock. "Is everything all right? It's four in the morning."

"I'm okay, but I'm at a crime scene. A big one. We could use you here. Can you come?"

Abe shuffled into the hallway, affixing his glasses to his nose. "Something wrong?"

Henry held up a finger, signaling for Abe to wait. "What do you mean a big one?"

"Several victims," Jo clarified. "Can you come down?"

Henry grabbed a pen and paper. "What's the address?"

Abe waited patiently as Henry jotted down the address. "All right. I'll be there in half an hour. Bye, Jo."

Abe's eyebrows shot toward his hairline. "Why is Jo calling at four in the morning?"

"Apparently, there's a crime scene with a lot of victims," Henry explained, tearing the slip of paper from its pad. "Lieutenant Reece is calling in all available hands, apparently. Could you call a cab for me while I get dressed and grab my tools?"

"Sure, sure," Abe said, heading to the phone. "Won't be long."

Henry finished dressing in record time, and Abe, bless his heart, had prepared a traveler's mug full of hot coffee. "Have a good day, Abe," Henry said on his way out the door.

"Once it's started," Abe said. "I'll be seeing you, Henry. Night."

Henry knew that Abe would be making a beeline for his bed and for a moment he envied his son. Ah, well. Duty called.

It didn't take him long to get to the crime scene. It was a three-story red-brick apartment building and it had already been cordoned off with yellow police tape. A small herd of police cars were gathered outside the tape, lights flashing and more than one officer was talking into their radios. Henry paid the cabbie and left his cab, ducking under the tape. Hanson was at the door to meet him.

"Hey, doc," Hanson said, stifling a yawn. "Good to see you."

"Likewise," Henry said politely. The detective looked rather the worse for wear. "The entire apartment building is the crime scene?"

Hanson nodded. "Yep. There's something in each apartment."

An officer suddenly dashed out of the building, past Hanson and Henry, and headed for the nearest garbage bin, where he was thoroughly sick. Henry stared, rather surprised. He wasn't used to such a reaction from New York's finest. "Someone new to the job?"

"Actually, Thompson's got five years under his belt," Hanson corrected. "No, what's inside is…bad. Lieutentant Reece has already forbidden us to let rookie cops inside."

"I see," Henry said quietly. "Is Lucas already here?"

"He's inside," Hanson told him.

Someone rushed outside and headed for the same bin.

"He was inside," Hanson corrected.

Henry headed over to his co-worker, concerned. He wasn't so much surprised by Thompson's reaction, but if Lucas, who worked with corpses and had seen what deranged criminals could do to them had this sort of reaction, what was inside had to be truly horrendous. "Lucas?"

Lucas was holding onto the bin, taking deep breaths. A surgical mask was hanging around his neck and he looked pale. "I'm okay," Lucas said faintly. "I'm okay, I'm just trying to quell my stomach."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Henry asked.

Lucas looked at him and what Henry saw in the young man's eyes shocked him.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Henry. It's bad in there. It's…really bad."

Henry looked at the apartment building and then back to Lucas. "What can you tell me?"

"Jo and Hanson told me that the building manager came to the building. Someone had called the office, complaining about a bad smell. He keyed himself in and in every apartment…everyone's dead. Someone…he didn't leave a single body intact. It's really hard to tell…which pieces go with which body."

Lucas had not been exaggerating. Over the next fourteen hours, Henry examined what he could, matched bodies together, and more than once the smell drove him outside to the bins. The heat of the past few days and a broken air conditioning system had contributed to the rapid decay of the bodies, and the heat and dirt and mess inside had left him feeling sweaty and filthy. At the end of those fourteen hours, he found himself sitting on a bench just outside the police tape, breathing fresh air and wishing that he could get all that he'd seen that day out of his head.

"Hey," Jo said, sitting down next to him. "How're you doing?"

"I've had better days," Henry admitted. "Right now, I'm exhausted. I definitely need a nice, long shower."

Jo nodded. "Yep. Lieutenant Reece is sending everyone home to get some rest. Everything's been sent to the morgue and the staff there will take care of it until later."

Henry turned his head and looked at her. "Are you all right?"

"Tired," Jo told him. "Plus, I'd been hoping that I'd never see just how terrible a human being can treat another. Looks like this is a pretty good example."

"Indeed it is."

Jo clapped him on the shoulder. "Mm-hmmm. You look pretty bad. Why don't you head home and get some rest? I'm going to. Can I drop you at home?"

"Thanks, but I'll grab a cab in a few minutes," Henry said. "Right now, I just need to revel in the fresh air for a bit. I'll see you later, Jo."

"All right, then. See you later."

Henry stayed on the bench, enjoying the fresh air and trying to get the knotted muscles in his neck to relax. He let his mind wander for a moment, hoping that his whirling thoughts would settle down...

"Hello, Henry," he heard as a weight settled on the bench next to him. "Long day?"

Henry jerked, his mind snapping back to the present as he opened his eyes to sight of Adam. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood and saw you. A crime scene not far away, so it stands to reason that you've been working. Judging from the time it took you to respond to my approaching you, you're exhausted."

"Thank you, Sherlock," Henry said snarkily, consoling himself with the fact that on a crowded street in the middle of New York in broad daylight there was only so much Adam could do to him without exposing their secrets to the world. At the worst, Henry decided, Adam could only annoy him.

"Looks like being tired makes you as cranky as it makes everyone else in this world," Adam said, giving Henry a smile. Before Henry could reply, Adam approached a bicycle vendor and came back, carrying two bottles of Gatorade. "Here. You look like you could use this."

Henry took the bottle and eyed it dubiously. He'd often had Gatorade in the past few years when necessary, usually when dehydration could be an issue, but what he didn't understand was why Adam, of all people, would give him one.

"You're being too suspicious for your own good, Henry," Adam said, re-taking his seat on the bench and opening up his own bottle. "It's ninety degrees out, you've been in a hot building all day, and I doubt if you've taken time to eat or drink anything today. Besides, you just saw me buy that from a vendor. How would I have managed to do something to it in the twenty seconds it took me to bring it to you?"

Henry sighed and opened the bottle, taking a long swallow. The chill of it going down his throat and the rush of refreshment that followed was wonderful.

"Better?" Adam asked.

"Much," Henry admitted. He took another two swallows, enjoying the flavor and the cold. "Forgive me for saying so, but you don't seem the type of person to enjoy such things."

Adam let out a bleak chuckle. "And you are?"

"Well, I am younger," Henry reminded him. "Isn't Gatorade supposed to be popular among the younger set?"

Adam grinned, surprising Henry. "This is what I hoped would happen, Henry."

Henry stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"The two of us, becoming friends, despite the odds. Companions together in time, if you will."

That was all that Henry needed to hear. He shot to his feet and glared at the older man. "You tried to frame me for _murder_, Adam. I doubt that we'll ever be _friends_."

"You make it sound so objectionable," Adam complained. "Honestly, Henry."

"Thank you for the drink," Henry said shortly before turning to hail a cab. "I'll return the favor at some point."

A cab had just pulled up when a wave of dizziness hit him. He swayed where he stood and felt someone take hold of his arms, steadying him.

"Woah," Henry heard the cabbie say. "He okay?"

"Looks like the heat just got to him, that's all," Adam replied. "He'll be all right once he lies down somewhere cooler."

"Okay, where to?"

Henry tried to make his mouth work, to scream that this was a kidnapping, but whatever he'd been given was too strong to fight against. His mind slipped away from him and for a while he drifted on the edge of sleep. A confusing montage of images rushed through his head: the cab, Adam's face, the outside of a brownstone building, stairs, and then a dark, quiet, and blessedly cool room. That was when it became impossible for him to keep his eyes open or even to move on his own. He felt Adam lay him down on a bed, and then he felt his clothes being removed. The bare minimum for modesty was left on him and a few seconds later hands wielding a cool, damp cloth wiped off his limbs, torso, back, and face, taking the sweat and grime of the day away with the cloth. A few strokes from a soft and fluffy towel dried him off, and then the hands were back, maneuvering him so that he lay on his side under the sheet and a light blanket.

"Sleep well, Henry." Adam's voice seemed to come from somewhere very far away. "Sleep as long as you need to."

* * *

Waking up from his unwanted sleep was difficult. Whatever drug he'd been given, it was a very strong one and it held him in its grip as surely as a vise. He slipped from dreams to waking, the images and sounds in his head giving way to darkness and silence, startling him. It took him a moment or two to realize that he _was_ awake. He was delightfully comfortable in a perfect bed, his limbs heavy and relaxed, his eyes still closed, suffused with the well-being of sleep.

Thoughts of Adam forced him into trying to sit up, to get out of bed and face his foe head-on. Unfortunately, he couldn't move. His limbs were still so heavy that he couldn't budge them. He couldn't even open his eyes.

_Well, this is just bloody lovely,_ Henry thought, willing his body to move. He had to get up...how long had he been gone? Oh, Lord, what about the precinct? How would he explain this kind of disappearance to Jo and the lieutenant?

What about Abe? Panic started to well up in his chest at the thought of his son. Abe would get worried, he would start to look for Henry...what if he crossed paths with Adam? He knew that Adam had stated that he could never harm Abe, but could Henry actually trust that? Dared he trust it?

Worry got his eyes open, and what he saw was a plain but pleasing room, done in blues and browns. It was clearly a guest room, devoid of any personal touches or mementos. Carefully, taking his time, Henry somehow levered himself into a sitting position, his head still swimming a little. Whatever Adam had given him had been one doozy of a drug.

The door opened, revealing Adam holding a steaming mug. "Oh. I have to say, my timing's quite good," Adam said, moving to Henry's bedside. "I'm right on time, it looks like. How are you feeling?"

"You have to ask?" Henry croaked, wishing his throat weren't so dry. A fierce pounding had started in his head, putting him in mind of a timpani drum. If he'd been feeling up to it, he would have tried to strangle his host.

"Oh, here," Adam said, holding out the mug. "To get your feet under you."

Henry eyed the mug the same way some would eye a poisonous snake. "You're either mad, or joking," he said, still holding his head. "Do you remember what happened the last time I drank something you offered?"

"As I recall, you fell on your nose," Adam said lightly, still holding out the mug. "I've put nothing in this, I promise."

"And you expect me to trust you?" Henry said incredulously.

Adam placed the mug on the bedside table. "You've been asleep a while, and you've only just woken up. Why would I want to make you sleep again?"

"For a reason that defies rational thought," Henry muttered, wishing his head would fall off his shoulders and give him some peace.

Adam didn't answer that comment. Instead, he headed to the closest door and opened it. "There are towels on the rack, soap and shampoo on the edge of the tub. Toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, comb, razor, and shaving cream on the sink. There should be everything you need. If you feel dizzy or sick, call me and I'll help you. I'll get your clothes for you." With that, he left the room.

Somehow, using might and main and good, old-fashioned stubbornness, Henry got himself to his feet and into the bathroom. Once he'd used the toilet and washed his hands he realized that he was no longer wearing what he'd thought he'd gone to sleep wearing. He could remember going to sleep in just his underwear, but now, he was wearing a pair of short cotton pants and a sleeveless shirt. When had he changed clothes? More importantly, had he changed by himself, or had he had...help?

Sternly telling himself not to think about it, Henry showered, washed his hair, brushed his teeth, and shaved. He found a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and pulled it on before heading back into the bedroom. As promised, there were his clothes, freshly laundered and folded and his shoes, cleaned and shined for him. shaking his head, he took them back into the bathroom to dress. Once he was dressed, he set the bathroom to rights and made the bed. He headed to the bedroom door and turned the knob.

It was locked.

Temper flaring, he pounded on the door. "I'm finished! Let me out!"

A minute later Henry heard footsteps and the turn of a key in the lock. "Sorry, Henry. Didn't want you to leave before I was sure you were okay. How do you feel?"

"Physically, I'm fine," Henry said through gritted teeth. That was not strictly true, though. His head hurt abominably and he still felt a bit weak.

"Good to hear that," Adam said, turning and leading the way down the hall to the main living area of the apartment. "Here we are. I hope you're hungry. After being asleep for two days, I'm sure you're ravenous."

The words stopped Henry in his tracks. "Two days? I've been here for _two days_?"

"Getting some much-needed rest, yes," Adam confirmed.

"Where's your phone?" Henry demanded. "I have a phone call to make!"

"If you need to call Abraham, I already have," Adam said as Henry stormed past him, looking for the phone. "I called him shortly after I put you to bed."

Henry stopped and glared at Adam, his eyes promising mayhem. "What did you say to him?"

"I told him who I was, what had happened to you, and that I'd send you home once you'd gotten some rest. I suggested that he call Detective Martinez and make some excuse explaining your absence at work."

Henry took a deep breath. "And what did Abe say?"

"He promised to hunt me down like a dog if I hurt you in any way," Adam said dryly, sounding amused. "He takes after you in the temper department, doesn't he?"

Henry decided not to admit that that phrase had actually been one of Abigail's favorites when she'd been in a less-than-pleased mood. He looked around the apartment, searching for a way out. Finally, he gave up. "Where's the door to this place?"

Adam pointed to a stairwell. "Are you sure you're all right? It shouldn't have taken so long for you to find it."

"I'm fine," Henry growled. "Excuse me." He headed down the stairs and tugged on the door. Then he saw the deadbolt. He turned it and pulled on the door again. Nothing.

Furious now, Henry charged back up the stairs and stared at Adam. "Let...me...out!"

"Like I was saying, I hope you're hungry," Adam said lightly, heading to the laden table in the corner.

Henry groaned. "Being a captive at breakfast is not what I plan to do with my morning!"

"Then you should go ahead and have a seat and have breakfast," Adam stated calmly. "The sooner you eat, the sooner I unlock that door."

Henry looked at the table and his gaze lighted on a knife. If he were fast enough...

"I wouldn't try it if I were you," Adam said, pouring two cups of coffee. "I'll find you as soon as you reappear and then I'll bring you back here and then we'll be right back where we started, Henry. Have a seat."

Henry told himself that murdering his unwanted host would not be a constructive start to the day. He reminded himself that it would probably just make Adam angry and he had no idea what Adam would do in retaliation. Gathering what dignity he could, he joined Adam at the table.

If he were being generous, he might admit to himself that Adam was a good cook. There were eggs, toast, ham, fresh fruit, and of course, coffee. Henry ate what he could and tried to follow the conversation that Adam was insisting on supplying. At long last, Adam glanced across at Henry's plate and smiled. "Very good, Henry."

He couldn't take it anymore. "Why did you do all this, Adam?"

Again, there was that unsettling smile. "I thought that if I perhaps did something like this, you would realize I was not such a bad guy after all."

Henry controlled himself only with a Herculean effort. "I see."

Adam reached under the table and Henry heard the buzz of a door lock opening. "There you are. It should be open. Have a good day, Henry."

Henry was out of his chair and heading down the steps before Adam could finish his sentence. He'd almost reached the door when he heard "Not even a word of thanks, Henry?"

Henry paused only long enough to turn and shout, "THANK YOU!"

Adam's chuckle followed him into the street.


	2. Chapter 2

An Evening Out

Abe stood in front of the sofa looking down at his father. "You need a break, Dad."

Henry, draped over the sofa like a forgotten old suit, lifted his head from the back of his seat and cracked an eye open. "Fully possible, Abe."

"You've been working on this case night and day for the past month," Abe continued, dropping down onto the sofa next to Henry. "The guy's been caught, so why don't you take tomorrow off?"

"Paperwork," Henry said bleakly. "Lots of it."

"Oh, come on," Abe coaxed. "I'm worried about you. You don't usually look so exhausted."

"Maybe I'll go to bed early," Henry said, exhaustion ringing in his voice.

"If you make it to your bed," Abe cracked.

"I may just stay here," Henry said after a moment. "This spot is perfectly comfortable."

"It'd be good to see you go to bed before midnight for a change," Abe said, getting a blanket and draping it over Henry. "Is Jo doing as bad as you in the sleep department?"

"Worse, I would think," Henry confessed. "She was one of the first on the scene."

"Oh, boy," Abe shuddered, thinking about that. "That must have been awful."

Henry nodded. "She was dead white when I saw her. It was clear she was in shock. I don't doubt that she's been having nightmares."

"What makes you say that?"

"She drinks a lot of coffee during the day."

"I see." Abe turned and looked at Henry. "About bed?"

"Help me up, Abe," Henry said, holding out his hands.

Carefully, Abe guided him down the hall and into his room. In no time at all Henry was undressed and in bed, blissfully nestled in pillows and his comforter. "Good night, Abe."

Abe grinned and switched off the light. "G'night, Dad."

* * *

Henry felt a bit better in the morning, and he spent an uneventful day finishing up paperwork related to their latest case. It had been horrendous: a butcher had slaughtered an entire building full of people. There were still some nights when he dreamed about it.

Adam had shown up at the beginning of that case and for some reason Henry doubted he could ever fathom, had drugged him and taken him to his place to sleep for a few days. He did admit to himself that he'd felt rather good after all that rest, but he didn't appreciate Adam just arbitrarily swanning into his life and doing as he pleased.

He hadn't heard from Adam since then. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or worried about that, but he was thankful for the relative peace of the last couple of weeks.

The phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts. Lucas picked it up. A minute later he put the call on hold and poked his head into Henry's office. "Abe's on the line for you."

Henry picked up. "Abe?"

"_Hey, Henry, how's things?"_

"They're fine," Henry said. "Just filling out forms and so on."

_"That's great. Listen, I called to see if you'd mind terribly if I had someone over tonight."_

Henry felt himself grin. "Is that someone of the female persuasion?"

"_Ummm…maybe."_

Oh, this was fun! "Maybe?"

_"All right, all right, she is, but she's GORGEOUS, Henry!"_

Henry chuckled. "Oh, that's fine with me. I still have some things to finish, so I'll be late. I'll see you when I get home, so have fun, okay?"

_"What about dinner?"_ Abe asked. _"You are gonna eat, right?"_

"I'll order something," Henry promised. "Have fun tonight."

_"Thanks, Henry. See you later."_

Henry told Abe goodbye and then went back to his paperwork. Around five o'clock he called and ordered some soup and a sandwich from his favorite area deli and went back to work. Fifteen minutes later, Lucas knocked on his door. "Ah, doc? There's a delivery here for you."

"Excellent, I'm famished," Henry said, getting up and going out to meet the delivery person. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the man holding a black garment bag and a shoebox. "What's this?"

The man turned and looked at him. "Dr. Morgan?"

"Yes?"

"Delivery for you." He handed over the garment bag and the shoebox.

"Ah, I didn't order…whatever this is," Henry said.

The delivery person shrugged. "Not my job, man. I was just paid to deliver it. Later."

Henry stood there, not certain what to do.

Lucas looked over the garment bag. "Looks pricey. What's in it?"

"I've no idea," Henry admitted, placing the garment bag on a table and opening it. Once he saw what was inside it, he stood there, staring at it.

"Nice suit," Lucas said. "Why would someone send you a suit? I mean, you already dress pretty well. What makes someone think you need another suit?"

"No idea," Henry said, opening the shoebox. As he'd thought, it was a pair of dress shoes. What was going on here?

The phone rang, bringing him out of his thoughts. He picked it up on the second ring, dread filling his stomach. "Henry Morgan."

_"Hello, Henry. Did you get my gifts?"_

"I did," Henry said. "Might one ask…why?"

_"There will be a car in front of the precinct in ten minutes. The driver will bring you to me."_

"Who says I want to go anywhere?" Henry demanded.

_"You're irritable, which is a sure sign you need a break,"_ Adam stated calmly. _"I promise, there's nothing nefarious planned for tonight. Just an enjoyable evening."_

"What if it's one of my stressors proposing to take me out for the night? That hardly sounds like a good bit of stress-relief."

_"Don't be childish, Henry,"_ Adam chided. _"Hurry up and get ready, you don't have much time."_

"My plans for tonight do not include you," Henry persisted. He could NOT allow Adam to think that he could control his life like this.

_"I'll see you soon, Henry. Before I hang up, just think for a moment. It would be bad if anything were to happen that would expose your secret…especially in front of the precinct with all those cameras…the people walking in and out. Just saying."_

It was a very effective threat. He felt cold at just the thought of it. Furious, he slammed the phone down in its cradle and swept up the garment bag and box of shoes before storming toward the door.

"Doc, you okay?" Lucas asked.

Henry had almost forgotten that his assistant was still there and he stopped in his tracks, suddenly realizing just how that phone call must have looked and sounded to Lucas. "Ah…just an old annoyance from my past."

"And this person is taking you out for the night?"

Henry didn't blame Lucas for sounding as if he couldn't believe it. "Unfortunately, he insists. He shows up from time to time and sort of…badgers me. It's incredibly annoying because he has the habit of showing up when I've had the longest days. I may as well go and get it over with."

"If you don't like him, why do you…?"

"It's complicated," Henry admitted. "If I don't go, though, I'll hear about it for ages. Not to worry, Lucas. He'll realize that I'm not much for the night life when I fall asleep later, wherever we go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Again, there was that doubtful look. "Okay. Have a good night. Try not to maim the guy if he annoys you too much."

Henry chuckled. "Oh, I have to confess, sometimes it's very tempting."

Henry headed to the men's room, changed, washed his face, and packed his clothes into the garment bag before placing the bag in his office for retrieval tomorrow. He pulled on his coat and scarf (thankfully, both could pass for evening wear in a pinch) and headed outside. There was a large black town car parked right outside, just as Adam had said, and as he approached it the driver got out of the car . "Dr. Morgan?"

Henry nodded.

The driver went around to the passenger's side and opened the door. With a sigh, Henry thanked the driver and took his seat, being careful to fasten the seat belt. He could well remember what had happened when Adam and a car had been involved in his life at the same time. Henry kept his mind busy during the ride, hoping that whatever Adam had planned, he could get it over with quickly.

They pulled up at last to a restaurant that he knew had opened only two months before and was regarded as the present toast of the culinary scene in New York. From what he'd read, it was almost impossible to get reservations. Henry stared at the doors. "Here?" he asked the driver.

"Yes, sir," the driver confirmed. "He's inside waiting for you. Just ask the maitre d' for Mr. King."

As Henry got out of the car, he reflected that he could very well make a run for it, but…no. He had no idea how Adam would react or what he would do in retaliation. Best to go and get it over with. He headed inside and followed the driver's instructions and the restaurant maitre d' led him straight to semi-private table in the far corner of the restaurant.

"Hello, Henry," Adam said warmly as soon as he spotted him. "Glad you could make it."

The maitre d' pulled out Henry's chair for him and Henry took his seat. He waited until the maitre d' provided him with a menu and left. "You didn't give me much choice," Henry reminded him. "Remember?"

Adam's lips twitched in a smile. "Well, I'm glad to see you made the right choice. I hope you're hungry."

Henry reflected that if looks could kill, then Adam would have been obliterated in a second. "It's been a long day."

Adam opened his menu, but Henry still saw the amused smile. _Laugh it up, you old relic,_ Henry thought savagely as he opened his own menu. As soon as he saw a heading stating "Tasting Menu" he wondered just who was paying. Etiquette dictated that the person who'd done the inviting would foot the bill, but still...

"Order what you like, Henry," Adam said. "Tonight it's all on me."

Henry had to quash the urge to throw something at his so-called "host." He turned his attention back to the menu, his stomach suddenly growling and his mouth watering.

Adam looked at him. "Hungry, Henry?"

"You know, calling attention to it is not exactly polite," Henry ground out. "But yes, I am hungry. Like I said, it's been a long day and breakfast was a while ago."

Adam blinked. "What about lunch?"

"I forgot about it," Henry confessed. "I was rather busy today."

"Well, let's get you fed," Adam said chummily.

Their waiter arrived, bearing a breadbasket and a carafe of wine and offered to take their orders for their appetizers. Still furious with himself that he was going along with this, Henry chose the mushroom and brie tartlets and Adam ordered sauteed scallops.

"Here you are," Adam said, pouring some wine once their water was gone. "The wine here is as good as what you'll find in France."

"You're joking," Henry stated, accepting the glass of wine. Cautiously, he took a sip...he remembered the last time he'd accepted a drink from Adam..."Oh."

"That was my first reaction," Adam said, clearly amused. "Good, isn't it?"

"Very good," Henry agreed. "This place, though. I have to admit that I'm curious. Why here?"

"Why not?" Adam countered. "You lived for several years in France, so I knew you would be familiar with French cuisine, and sometimes it's hard to enjoy something that you're not familiar with. Taste adventures are for days when you're well-rested."

"Put that way...yes," Henry stated.

Their appetizers arrived then, and once the plates were taken away, they ordered their main dishes. Henry reveled in the pheasant with mushrooms and fresh steamed vegetables that the waiter brought him...he HAD to bring Abe here! The food was incredible!

"You look like you're enjoying that," Adam said, clearly fighting down a chuckle.

"It's very good," Henry said, calmly breaking off a piece of his bread and buttering it.

The next course was fruit and cheese, and after that, dessert and coffee. All of it was delicious and in Henry's view, a delight to the senses. Once he'd finished the last bite, he sat back in his chair, replete.

"That's a much better expression than what you were wearing when you first arrived," Adam said happily. "Feel better?"

"Much," Henry said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Adam told him. "Now that we're both fed and watered, I have a surprise for you."

Henry gave him a long, thoughtful look. "I knew I should have trusted my first instincts and run."

There was no little chuckle this time, Adam actually threw his head back and laughed, drawing amused glances from the nearest table. "Oh, Henry, Henry, Henry. Don't be so suspicious all the time! It's nothing bad, I promise you!"

Telling himself to head to the nearest exit if ANY warning bells went off, Henry asked, "What is it?"

"A play," Adam said calmly, still smiling. "Have you ever seen 'After Mrs. Rochester'?"

"I haven't," he confessed, firmly quelling a sudden longing. He'd been trying to see it for years! "By Polly Teale, isn't it?"

"Yes, and it's wonderful," Adam stated. "I have two tickets that are burning a hole in my pocket."

"Why not take your wife?" Henry suggested. He still had no idea about the woman he'd seen in the photos in "Dr. Farber's" office, but...

"She doesn't care for plays," Adam said evenly. "She doesn't care for going out at all, really. Ready?"

"What if I said I'd prefer to go home and go to sleep?"

"Nonsense, you just had coffee," Adam pointed out. "You'll be up for a while."

Adam handed off his credit card to the waiter and paid for the meal and then ushered Henry outside.

Henry waited until they were outside before pursuing the matter further. "Adam, I would like to say thank you for a wonderful meal, but I..." He stopped at the look on Adam's face.

"Think carefully before you finish that sentence, Henry," Adam said, his voice thick with menace. "Get in the car."

The town car was still waiting for them, and Henry took his seat inside, careful to fasten his seat belt.

Fifteen minutes later, the car dropped them off at the Avant Theater, a new venture that had opened the year before. It was famous in the Times' theater pages for being progressive and offering other amenities of which other theaters could only dream. Its soaring glass façade was impressive and as they headed inside, Henry had to pause for a moment in the lobby to appreciate the architecture.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" Adam said quietly, standing beside Henry.

"Remarkable." He looked around at the finials and the fresco work. "Who was the artist?"

"A team of five, actually," Adam told him. "The main designer, though, is starting to make a name for himself. I look forward to seeing what he does next."

Adam led Henry up the stairs to the first tier, each step revealing more and more architectural splendor. Henry loved every second of it, and he kept looking around until an usher showed them to a box.

"If you're going to see a play, Henry, it's best to do it in comfort," Adam said as he dropped into a chair. "Have a seat, Henry."

Briefly Henry debated breaking for the door, but Adam's eyes on him made him reconsider. It was only a few hours, wasn' t it? Just a few hours; he could endure that long. Henry took his seat next to Adam and stared at the stage. He doubted greatly that he would be able to enjoy a play while sitting next to Adam, but it would be nice to see this one. Every time he'd tried to get tickets before, it had either been sold out or work had gotten in the way.

A sudden thought occurred to him: Did Adam somehow know that he'd wanted to see this play for ages? No, that would be giving him far too much credit. Plus, it would be giving Adam the power to read minds, and _that_ was too scary a thought to contemplate.

He leaned back a bit in his chair, surprised at how comfortable it was. The buzz of the crowd below was a bit soporific and for a few minutes, his mind just drifted and he started to relax a bit. No point in being as tense as a harp string for the whole play. That would be exhausting. Then the usher arrived, offering them both a drink. Adam ordered champagne for both of them and Henry took the glass the usher handed him, careful to take no more than a sip. The last thing he wanted was for it to go to his head when he was in Adam's company.

He didn't have long to dwell on his situation, though, since the lights started to go down, and once they were dim, the curtain rose, and the play began. From the first scene where the author's daughter was knocking on the door, begging her mother to open it, to the last scene where the author had a sudden understanding, grasping hold of her life again, Henry was enthralled. He rose to his feet with the rest of the audience once the curtain came down, giving the actors a standing ovation. Three curtain calls later, Henry sank into his chair, suddenly exhausted.

"Remarkable, wasn't it?"

"Incredible," Henry agreed. "I…thank you. It was…incredible."

Adam grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Let's go."

Once they were in the car, Adam started a quiet conversation about the play, covering the set, the costumes, the actors, and the scenes and dialogue. Henry didn't really have to say anything, and so he set himself to listen politely. After a few minutes, he realized that the drone of Adam's voice and the hum and vibration of the car were pretty relaxing. For the first time since the case started, he actually felt completely relaxed, rather than stressed. Maybe a night out _had_ been what he'd needed.

He had no idea when he fell asleep, but he woke to the sensation of someone shaking his shoulder and hearing his name said over and over again. "Henry...Henry...Henry…?"

Henry cracked his eyes open, reluctant to wake up. He was so comfortable and he'd been so tired for so long…His vision cleared and he saw Adam bending over him, smiling, with his hand resting on his shoulder.

Comprehension hit. "Yaaaah!" Henry yelled, jerking away so quickly that he cracked his head on the car window.

"He okay?" the driver asked, rolling down the partition between the front seat and the back as Adam started laughing.

"He's fine," Adam wheezed, clapping his hands in glee. "Oh, that was priceless!"

Henry was crouched in the corner of the backseat, glaring at Adam. "It's not funny."

"Of course it is!" Adam insisted, still laughing. "_Yaaaah!_ Ha, ha, ha! I'll be chuckling over that for weeks!"

Henry wished he could just throttle him and be done with it. "I fell asleep?"

Adam nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't wake you earlier, but you just looked so peaceful that I couldn't bear the thought of disturbing you. Do you feel better after your rest?"

Henry glanced out the window and saw that they were parked in front of the antiques shop. "How long was I asleep?" It shouldn't have taken them more than twenty minutes to get from the theater to the shop, but somehow, it felt much longer.

"About an hour and a half," Adam told him, still grinning. "I asked our driver to drive around for a while and let you rest a bit. Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

Abe and Abigail had said the same thing to him, countless times, and he'd always found it amusing to hear about it from them. From Adam, it was…disturbing. "What did I say?"

Now the driver chuckled. "You're a big teddy bear, sir," he said. "You were talking to your kid. Did you name the store after him?"

"He named the store after himself," Henry said, fumbling for the door handle. He wanted nothing more than to put as much space as possible between himself and the still-grinning Adam.

"Well, I'm glad you went out with me," Adam said, gripping Henry's shoulder to keep him in his seat. "We'll do it again sometime."

"Oh, a threat, how lovely," Henry said, striving for some equanimity. Ever since waking up and realizing that Adam had been watching him sleep, his composure had felt absolutely shattered. "Thank you for driving me home. Good night, Adam."

"Good night, Henry." This time, Adam let him go.

As soon as the car pulled away, Henry let himself into the shop, locked the door, and headed upstairs. To his surprise, the lights were all on and he could hear Abe on the phone.

"No, I haven' t heard from him," Abe was saying as Henry entered the living room. "It's not like him not to call…and that thing with that stalker around Christmas…I can't help worrying."

"I'm home, Abe," Henry said.

Abe whipped around, startled. "Oh! He's home! "

"Just got in," Henry stated calmly. "Who's on the phone?"

"It's Jo," Abe said to Henry, covering the phone with his hand. He moved his hand and kept talking. "Listen, Jo, thanks so much for helping me out. I really appreciate it. Yeah, I'll tell him. Thanks again. See you soon."

Abe hung up and turned on Henry. "Where _were_ you?! Do you know how worried I was?!"

"I'm sorry, Abe…" Henry began, but he was cut off.

"This is it, Henry, this is the last straw. We're getting cell phones, and you're gonna learn how to use it and keep it with you so you can be found, you hear me? I can't take another night like this!"

"All my arguments against cell phones are still valid, and Abraham, since when do you talk to your father like this?" Henry said, feeling a bit miffed. "May I have a chance to explain?"

Abe fixed him with a glare and stood with his hands on his hips. "Okay. Go ahead. Explain."

"I was shanghaied," Henry said, taking a seat on the sofa. "By Adam. He had a car pick me up at work and he insisted on our having dinner together and then we went to a play. I tried to slip away but he was stuck to me like a limpet all night. After the play somehow I fell asleep in the car and he only just now brought me home and woke me. That's why I'm so late."

"That's…creepy," Abe said, looking thoughtful. "Did he hurt you?"

"No," Henry reassured him. "I'm fine. I'm sorry I worried you. You called Jo?"

"When it got to midnight and I hadn't heard from you, I called her," Abe admitted. "I didn't want to think that something had happened, but she listened to me and had a few of her friends keep an eye out for you. Just in case." At that moment, Abe looked every day of his age and more.

"Oh, Abe," Henry said, giving Abe a hug. "I am so sorry."

"Ah, it's okay," Abe said, returning the hug. "I understand. But Henry?"

"Hmm?"

"Giving me a hug and apologizing isn't going to get you out of going with me to get a cell phone. Just so you know."

Sometimes, Henry reflected, his son could be so stubborn. "All right, Abe."


	3. Chapter 3

Happy Birthday

The sound of his bedroom door opening brought Henry out of a deep sleep. He levered himself to a sitting position and stared at all of the helium-filled balloons floating around his room. He saw heart-shaped balloons, star-shaped balloons, teddy bear-shaped balloons, silver foil balloons, and all of them stated HAPPY BIRTHDAY in multi-colored letters. He grinned and batted away the ones floating over his bed and made his way toward the door. "Abe?"

Abe was standing in the doorway, grinning. "Happy Birthday, Dad."

"Thank you, Abe," Henry said, giving his son a hug. "What made you think of this?"

"Just a random thought," Abe told him.

"A random thought of your mother doing the same thing for you when you were ten?"

Abe's grin grew wider. "Like I said, a random thought. Breakfast in twenty minutes. Hope you're hungry!"

Henry grinned again and made his way into the shower, laughing when he saw the shower full of balloons as well. By the time he managed to wash and dress, the balloons had managed to migrate all over the house. Some were floating in the hallway, the dining room, the kitchen, the sitting room, and they were even starting down the stairs toward the shop. Chuckling under his breath, he made his way to the dining room.

A feast had been prepared. There was the full English, but there were also crepes with various fillings, fruit salad, and muffins. Henry felt his stomach growl and his mouth watered. Oh, yes. He was hungry.

In no time at all, he and Abe were tucking in.

"I didn't know you knew how to make crepes," Henry remarked as he took a bite of a vanilla crème filled crepe.

"I read a few recipes," Abe stated, filling Henry's glass with juice. "How are they?"

The light flavor of vanilla filled his mouth and the fluffy crepe made him think of clouds. "Perfect. These are better than what I had in France."

Abe started laughing. "Oh, come on, Dad! Now you're lying!"

"I am not," Henry assured him. "These are divine." To illustrate the point, he took another bite. "Mmm."

Abe gave a happy smile and took his seat at the table. "So, do you know if you need to work late tonight?"

"Not unless something happens," Henry stated. "Why?"

"I just wanted to be sure you're home in time for dinner," Abe said.

Henry fixed his son with a look. "Abe…what are you planning?"

Abe gave him an innocent look. "I'm gonna make something delicious and I wanted to be sure that it's not gonna go to waste, that's all."

"You know, your innocent look didn't work when you were young, and it's not working now," Henry said. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing at all," Abe insisted. "Really, Dad."

Certain that Abe would not admit to anything, Henry settled back in his chair and took another bite of crepe. "All right, then, I won't pry." He wasn't fooled a bit. He would most likely come home to a three course birthday dinner as well as cake and ice cream and perhaps a bottle of champagne. If there was one thing Abe loved to do, it was celebrate a birthday.

He finished his breakfast and after telling Abe to have a good day and thanking him for the wake up and the breakfast, he headed off to work. Nothing too exciting was on for that day, just a few loose ends to finish tying up and some paperwork. Every now and then, he reflected, it was nice to have a quiet day.

He was just thinking about going to lunch when his phone rang. He picked up absent-mindedly and tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear. "Henry Morgan."

"Hey, Henry," Jo said, sounding vastly amused about something. "Could you come up here, please?"

Something about her voice made him pause. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Jo assured him. "We just need you up here. You and Lucas."

Ten minutes later, he and Lucas headed into the precinct. People were crowded around Jo's desk.

"Hello, Jo," Henry said, walking up to Jo's desk. "What can I do for…?"

"Looks like you forgot to tell us when your birthday was, huh?" Jo said chummily, looking happily at what was sitting on her desk.

It was a monstrosity of a cake with four tiers, chocolate buttercream frosting, chocolate rosettes, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HENRY written on it in chocolate non-pareil letters. There were also candles. Lots and lots of candles. If he took the time to count them, he knew there would be two hundred and thirty seven of them. Next to the cake were a stack of pizza boxes and some bottles of soda.

"What's all this?" he asked, still staring at it.

"It was delivered a little bit ago, along with a card," Jo said, holding out an envelope to Henry. "Henry, how come you never told anyone it was your birthday?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucas punch his fist in the air. He knew exactly what Lucas was thinking: _Finally! After all this time, I finally know when his birthday is!_

"Ah, it didn't seem important," he confessed.

"Well, someone sent this for you," Lieutenant Reece said. "Who was it?"

Feeling as if live worms were crawling up his stomach, Henry took the card out of the envelope and looked at it. There were only two people in the world who knew exactly how many candles to put on a cake for him, and he was sure that Abe wouldn't have…that left just one person.

The card was a simple white cardstock folded in half, with the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY written on it in precise calligraphic script. Inside the card the same handwriting stated _Thought it would be nice to celebrate your birthday, Henry. _After that, there was only one word.

_Adam._

"An old friend of mine," Henry said, striving to put a smile on his face. "He likes to surprise me now and then."

"So, why are there…so many candles on the cake?" Hanson asked. "You're not really a hundred years old, are ya?"

"He's a bit of a jokester," Henry answered, noting with dismay that Hanson was lighting the candles. "He likes to joke that I'm ancient since I'm a bit old-fashioned."

"A bit?" Jo teased.

"All right, more than a bit," Henry conceded. "Really, Detective Hanson, you don't have to light _all_ of them."

"Oh, yes, I do," Hanson stated, lighting the last few. "C'mon, doc. Make a wish!"

Everyone began applauding and whistling and cheering. A second later, he heard Lucas start singing. "Happy Birthday to you…Happy Birthday to you!"

Everyone else picked up the song. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR HENRY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOOOOOU!"

Feeling a self-conscious blush start, Henry approached the cake as the last note died away. "It looks like the Great London Fire, which, I am glad to say, was before my time." That remark actually got a bit of laughter, and it had the advantage of being absolutely true. He took a deep breath and blew out as many of the candles as he could, and after a few breaths more, he had to ask for help. Jo and Lucas both helped with blowing out the candles, and once they were all out, there was more applause and cheering and shouts of _Happy Birthday, Dr. Morgan!_

Without Henry having to do anything, slices of pizza, cups of soda, and slices of cake were distributed on paper plates and passed out to everyone, and Henry ate and drank and felt himself smile when he tasted the cake. It was rich and sweet and everything anyone could ever want in a cake. Henry only hoped that Adam's more malevolent demons hadn't made him poison it in some way.

"It's good to see you smile, Henry," Jo said, taking a bite of her own cake. "You haven't been yourself lately."

"Really?" Henry asked. He hadn't noticed any difference.

"You've been more serious," she clarified. "Sometimes, you've been too serious. It's good to see you joking and laughing a little. Do it a little more often, all right?"

"Sure thing, Jo," Henry agreed.

⃰

Henry got a phone call from Abe about ten minutes before he left for home asking him to pick up some milk on the way home. He completed his errand with no problem and headed home. All was quiet when he got to the shop and as he headed upstairs. "Abe? I'm home!"

No answer.

Henry paused, a thousand awful things rushing through his mind. Why hadn't Abe answered? "ABE?"

"I'm in the kitchen!" Abe called back.

Relieved, Henry trotted up the rest of the stairs and into… a whole crowd of people.

"SURPRISE!"

Henry yelled and leapt back, his heart hammering in his chest. His reaction drew nothing but laughter and calls of "Got you!"

"Abe?" Henry called out, hoping his son would hear him. "What's all this?"

Abe scurried out from behind Henry's coworkers and grinned. "Surprise, Henry. Happy Birthday!"

"A surprise party," Henry said, getting it at last. "Oh, Abe."

With that, Henry was swept into a crowd of well-wishers: Jo, Hanson, Lucas, Lieutenant Reece, and a few other people he knew from work and people he knew on Abe's behalf. In no time at all, music was on, and a buffet-style dinner was on the sideboard. People wandered about, talking and carrying plates full of delicious finger foods and cups and glasses of drinks.

Henry nibbled on a few finger foods (all of them were Abigail's recipes, of course), sipped a glass of wine, and accepted birthday wishes as he circulated amongst his friends and thanked them for coming.

"This is an awesome birthday for you, Henry," Jo said, coming to stand next to Henry. "A party at work, a surprise party at home…"

"Abe doesn't usually throw surprise parties," Henry admitted. "He definitely surprised me."

"You look like you're enjoying yourself," Jo remarked.

"It's been a while since I've had so much fun," Henry confessed. "I think you were right about me being too serious."

She grinned.

"Come on, come on, everybody!" Abe called out, his voice carrying over the music. "Time for cake!"

Abe led them all into the dining room, where Henry was made to sit down in front of a huge sheet cake with Happy Birthday written on it in blue icing. Icing roses were in each corner and borders of blue icing trimmed the cake, making it look decadently delicious.

"What flavor's the cake, Abe?" Hanson asked.

"Henry's favorite," Abe stated.

"Chocolate?" Hanson guessed.

"Scone!" Lucas added.

"Scone?" Henry echoed.

"Well, you're from England."

"No, no, no, wait until the cake is cut," Abe said, lighting the one candle on the cake before putting a paper party hat on Henry's head. "One, two, three!"

For the second time that day, Henry had the Happy Birthday song sung to him and blew out the candles on a cake. Applause and cheers followed and Henry waved away the smoke, laughing.

"Jo told me how many candles you had on your cake today, so I decided one was enough," Abe told him, handing Henry a cake knife. "Slice it up, Henry."

Henry could see that the color of the cake had people confused. It was a light tan color, and one by one he saw people sample the cake and then smile.

"Mmmm," Lucas said. "Doc, you like butterscotch?"

"Abigail used to make it for me," Henry said, smiling at the memory. "One taste of that cake and I knew it was the best cake in the world."

A gallon of vanilla ice cream joined the cake, and once people had had enough sugar to send an elephant into hyperglycemic shock, Abe brought out the gifts.

"Oh, now, Abe!" Henry protested. "You've already given me a party!"

"It's just a few things," Abe told him. "Besides, I wasn't the only one! C'mon, open 'em up!"

Cheers and applause and plenty of verbal encouragement got Henry to agree to open the gifts. The first two gifts, from Abe, were a serious gift and a joke gift. The serious gift was a boxed set of books from a modern author Henry enjoyed reading and the joke gift was a T-shirt that said "Single and Sexy!" Hoots and whistled followed the opening of that one and Henry sternly told himself not to blush.

From Jo, he received a new scarf and from Lieutenant Reece he received a new pair of gloves. Hanson gave him a pocketknife engraved with an H and Lucas gave Henry his first ever comic book.

"Lucas, what can I say?" Henry asked, looking at his gift.

"You've gotta start with the classics, Henry," Lucas told him. "You read that one and you'll be hooked, I promise!"

"Oh, I'm looking forward to it," Henry said, certain that not an iota of sarcasm reached his voice. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with the book, though. Surely it was not meant for reading!

"And there's just one more," Abe said, placing the gift in front of Henry. "Someone forgot to put a tag on it."

Henry examined the gift, wrapped in an understated burgundy wrapping paper and tied with a white ribbon. He untied the ribbon and opened the paper and his jaw dropped as he saw what the package held.

"Holy Hannah," Abe breathed, staring at the book. "Holy Toledo. Henry, don't touch it! I'll get you some gloves!"

"What's wrong?" Jo asked.

Abe pulled a set of cotton gloves from a drawer and handed them to Henry. "That's a really old book. Really, really old."

Henry pulled on the gloves and carefully opened the book. The faded red gauffered cover looked familiar somehow…very familiar…he looked at the endpaper and saw the name _Henry Morgan_ written in faded black ink.

As soon as he saw his name, it hit him. This book had been his at one time. It had been a gift from his father when he'd gone off to college. It was a copy of Pope's translation of Homer's _Odyssey_ and Henry had read it several times while he'd been away from home. It had been left behind when he'd left Nora.

"Wow," Lucas said, looking at the book. "Who's it from?"

Henry looked at the wrappings. No tag, no card. Nothing to say who it was from. Nonetheless, he knew. "That friend who sent the cake to us at work today," Henry said. "He sent this."

Abe had heard the story from Jo and he'd known exactly who had sent a cake with that many candles for Henry. "He sent it?"

"Couldn't be anyone else," Henry said, showing Abe the name on the endpaper.

"Well, I'll be," Abe said. "Hmm. I gotta say, he's kind of…eccentric."

_'Eccentric' is a polite word for what really ails him_, Henry thought. "That he is."

After the gifts were opened and Henry said his thanks, Abe brought out champagne. Henry and Abe mingled among their guests, and eventually, the party wound down. Both Henry and Abe saw each guest off, thanking them for coming. Jo was the last one to leave.

"Thank you for coming, Jo," Henry said at the door. "It's been a wonderful night."

"I was glad to come," Jo told him. "I'm really happy you had fun today. Happy Birthday, Henry."

"Thank you, Jo." Henry, before he could stop himself, gave Jo a hug. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Henry," Jo said with a smile. "Night."

Henry and Abe headed back inside.

"Some party, huh, Dad?" Abe asked as they went up the stairs to their apartment.

"The best I've had in a while," Henry admitted. "Thank you, Abe."

"You're welcome," Abe said. He headed over to the table where the gifts were and examined the book Adam had sent. "How on earth did he find this?"

"I have no idea," Henry admitted. "It makes me feel…"

"Weird," Abe supplied.

"I was going to say vulnerable, but that works, too," Henry said. He pulled on the cotton gloves again and picked up the book, turning over the pages. He could see little marks he'd made over the years, marking his favorite passages, and occasionally there was a comment about the text. A wash of memories came back with each page. Could Adam have possibly known just what this book had meant to him?

The phone rang and Abe answered. "Hello? Uh, yeah…he's here. Hold on." Holding the mouthpiece against his chest, Abe turned and mouthed the word _Adam_ at Henry.

"Oh, wonderful," Henry said under his breath, holding his hand out for the phone. "Hello?"

"_Hello, Henry_," Adam said. "_Happy Birthday."_

"Thank you," Henry said calmly. "Thank you for the impromptu party at work and thank you, also, for the gift. How did you find it?"

"_It wasn't easy_," Adam said. "_But I found it. Just wanted to call and wish you many happy returns."_

Just like that, Adam hung up.

"That man should brush up on his telephone etiquette," Henry remarked as he hung up.

"What did he say?" Abe asked.

"In essence, 'Happy Birthday.'"

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Hmm. Okay, then. I'm getting myself another slice of cake," Abe said. "You?"

Henry smiled. Abe had always loved cake. "Why not?"

"Oh, by the way, Pops," Abe said. "Just in case no one's said it…Happy Birthday."


	4. Chapter 4

Home Remedy

Abe placed the suitcase in the trunk of his car and turned to look at Henry. "I'll be back on Tuesday, but you know, I can cancel."

Henry sniffed and wished his head would clear. "It's just a cold, Abraham. I'll be fine."

"You really don't look fine," Abe pressed. "And it's just an antiques show, Dad. I don't have to go."

"You've been planning this trip for months," Henry reminded him. "Please, don't worry. I'll stay inside, wrap up in a blanket, and drink chicken soup and lots of tea. I'll be fine, I promise."

Abe looked him up and down. "Do you promise to call if you need anything?"

"I promise. And if it's urgent, I will call Jo…or even Lucas."

Abe grinned and looked at his father. "If you do that, he might come over with comic books."

"Heaven forbid," Henry said seriously. "Safe journey, Abraham. I'll see you in a few days."

"Sure thing," Abe said, giving Henry a bear hug. "Anything you want me to bring back for you?"

"New ribs," Henry joked. "At least three."

It was always nice to be able to make those you loved laugh, Henry thought as Abe pulled away from the curb. He honked the horn and waved goodbye and headed off toward the airport. He was heading to an antiques show in Chicago and had been planning the trip for months. Unfortunately, yesterday Henry had started to feel unwell, and that morning he'd woken up with a full-blown cold. One cough and Abe had turned into a massive pile of worry and it had taken all of Henry's powers of persuasion to reassure his son that he was indeed fine and that there was no reason for him to stay home.

He'd been lying about being fine, though. It was a very bad cold, and it lived up to its name. He felt as if he couldn't get warm and whenever he coughed his chest ached. If he wasn't careful, he could easily come down with bronchitis on top of the cold. He headed back inside the shop, turned the sign to CLOSED and headed upstairs to the apartment. He was intent on a cup of tea, a book, and a blanket to throw around his shoulders.

He read for a while, but after a few hours he felt poorly enough to admit defeat and head back to bed. He undressed, dropped into bed, and was just curling up with his book when the phone rang. He groaned, coughed, groaned again in pain, and shuffled his way to the phone. "Hello?"

_Henry Morgan, please._

"Speaking," Henry croaked, feeling a headache start at hearing Adam's voice.

_You don't sound like yourself, Henry,_ Adam said. _What's the matter?_

"I have a cold," Henry told him. "Did you want something?" With the way he felt, the last thing he wanted to do was play one of Adam's wretched games.

_Just calling to keep in touch,_ Adam said. _Take care of yourself._

Henry rolled his eyes as he hung up. What, exactly, did Adam think would happen to him if he didn't?

Henry spent the rest of the day in bed, reading or listening to records. It was nice to laze about occasionally, and being ill gave him the perfect excuse. Even better, it was Saturday, and he wasn't due back at the office until Monday morning. He had a couple of days in which to be at home, doing exactly as he pleased while he recuperated. The prospect was delightful.

Henry got up around one o'clock, made himself some soup and toast with tea, ate, drank, washed up, and feeling much more the thing, he made himself at home on the sofa to read. He read until his head started to ache a bit and decided that he'd had enough.

Henry returned to bed and stretched out under the covers, picked up his book…and woke up several hours later, his room dark. Confused, he sat up, and then he groaned. His head was pounding, his throat was on fire, and he could tell that he had a fever. Drat. He was worse. With a herculean effort, he got to his feet, pulled on his robe, slid his feet into his slippers, and shuffled his way to the kitchen. Perhaps some soup or tea would help…

The light was on in the kitchen. Convinced that he hadn't left that light on earlier, Henry grabbed the nearest thing he could use for a weapon (a candlestick) and headed into the kitchen. The stove was on and a pot was bubbling on the burner.

"Hello, Henry," he heard behind him.

"Yaaaaah!" Henry yelled, whipping around and swinging the candlestick. The housebreaker dodged easily when Henry lost his balance and fell and a moment later Adam was staring down at him, a smirk on his face.

"Dr. Morgan with the candlestick in the kitchen, I see," Adam said chummily. "Feeling any better?"

Henry glared at him. "What do you think you're doing here?" The question didn't sound quite as menacing as he'd wanted since he broke down in a fit of coughing.

"I'm here to visit the sick," Adam replied, taking hold of Henry's arm and pulling him to his feet.

"Get out!" Henry snapped, yanking his hand out of Adam's grip. "It's not enough you've forced yourself into my life, threatened me, played games with my well-being, threatened those I care about, murdered others…now you've broken into my home!"

"Ah, the old English idea that a man's home is his castle. You make me sound like an invading villain, Henry," Adam said lightly, going to the stove and stirring what was in the pot. "As for breaking in, I didn't."

"What do you mean, you didn't?" Henry demanded.

"I have a key."

Henry felt his entire being go cold. Adam could have come into the house any time…gone through their belongings…their papers…he could have come in while they were _asleep_…

"Don't look so stricken, Henry," Adam said as he began opening cupboard doors. "I don't make a habit of going into other people's homes. I had a key just in case, and this seemed like an opportune time to use it."

"You'll give me that key, and then you're going to get out," Henry snarled.

"Nonsense," Adam said, pulling a bowl out of the cupboard and closing the door. "You're ill, and you're clearly not doing well. When I looked in on you earlier, you were dead to the world and burning up. Is this how a doctor cares for himself?"

Henry stared at him, his gorge rising. "You've been in my _room_?"

"Only to check on you," Adam confirmed. "You should sit down, you know. I meant it when I said you didn't look well."

"I meant it when I told you to get out," Henry muttered, turning and heading for the hallway.

"Where are you going, Henry?"

"I'm calling the police!"

A chuckle followed from the kitchen. "I already have."

That brought Henry to a halt. "Excuse me?"

The doorbell rang.

"That will be for you, Henry," Adam said. "Hurry back, your soup will get cold."

With a final glare for Adam, Henry headed for the door. Standing there was Jo. Silently cursing Adam, Henry opened the door. "Hello, detective."

"Hi, Henry," she said, looking him up and down. "Dr. Farber called me and said you were sick, and that I should come over. Are you okay?"

"Well, you may have come just in time to prevent a murder," Henry told her, stepping back so she could come in. "When I first laid eyes on the man, I'd had no idea that he was so bloody interfering. He just waltzed his way in here and began making soup!"

Jo grinned. He was actually annoyed enough to swear in front of her! "Well, I'm glad I'm here, then. Is Dr. Farber still here?"

Henry nodded and led the way up the stairs. "Unfortunately. I've told him repeatedly that he doesn't need to stay, but he refuses to take a bloody hint."

Jo grinned again. Swearing twice in as many minutes! Henry was truly perturbed. It was kind of fun to see him so thrown off his stride once in a while.

"Hello, Detective Martinez!" 'Dr. Farber' said brightly as Henry and Jo entered the kitchen. "Thanks for coming!"

Jo nodded. "My pleasure. How did you know Henry was sick, Dr. Farber?"

"I saw him earlier today, pale as a ghost and weaving a bit as he walked, so I thought I should come over and check on him," Adam told her, still in the guise of the affable Dr. Farber. "We Englishmen must stick together, hmm?"

"And I told you I was fine," Henry repeated for what felt like the hundredth time as he sat down at the table. The statement's force was diminished, though, when he had to pause to cough.

"You can tell Henry's a typical doctor, detective," Adam said, placing a full bowl of soup on the table in front of Henry. "They will never admit that they're not all right when they're sick."

"My being ill is not an invitation for random people to come in and take over my kitchen stove," Henry stated, staring at the bowl in front of him. "What's this?"

"What I took over your stove to make," Adam said. "Granny Farber's cure-anything chicken soup. Detective, I don't think you'll have had a chance to eat yet, would you like a bowl as well?"

"That smells incredible," Jo said. "If you don't mind, then yes, please."

Adam dished up another bowl and placed it on the table along with a bowl of sliced French bread and a container of butter. A minute later he joined them with a bowl of his own and a pot of tea.

"Is tea what English people drink when they're not doing well?" Jo asked. "Not 7-Up or Sprite?"

"Perish the thought," Adam said. "Tea is the only drink worth having when you're ill. Isn't that right, Henry?"

"Mmmn," Henry managed, wishing his head would stop pounding. Did he dare touch any of the food Adam had provided? The memory of that wretched Gatorade was still strong in his mind.

Jo took a spoonful of soup and swallowed it, a happy and contented smile spreading over her face. "Oh, wow. Granny Farber was quite the cook!"

"She was," Adam said lightly after taking a spoonful. "I must have watched her make this soup hundreds of times when I was younger, and it's never steered me wrong when I was ill. I felt Henry could benefit from it as well."

That last remark was a pointed reminder for Henry to start eating, so grudgingly, Henry picked up his spoon and had a swallow of soup. He swallowed and a second later the flavors hit him, and he found himself smiling in spite of himself. It was delicious! "I never realized you could cook."

"You stick around long enough, and you learn a few things," Adam said good-naturedly.

"Any chance you would be willing to share the recipe?" Jo asked after taking another spoonful. "This is fabulous! I'd probably make it once a week!"

Adam chuckled. "You really want the recipe?"

"Seriously, yes!" Jo persisted. "Would a bribe need to be involved?"

Adam kept chuckling and took a sip of tea. "Well, I would be letting you in on a family secret, Detective Martinez. A bribe might have to be involved at some point."

Jo laughed and took a piece of bread. "Okay, okay. Just let me know what it is and I can tell you if it's out of my price range."

As Henry spooned up his soup, he reflected how chameleon-like Adam was. He was a cold-blooded murderer, and he'd experienced torture that Henry doubted he could have withstood himself, but he also had an odd, human side to him, one that allowed him to laugh and joke with other people. The difference was incredible. Even more intriguing was the soup. It was filled with carrots, celery, sliced mushrooms and onions, shreds of chicken, and thick homestyle noodles that had thickened the broth and made it more substantial. It was the seasonings, though, that made all the difference. He tasted garlic, pepper, but what else?

"At least tell me what seasonings you used," Jo pleaded. "Maybe then I could figure out how to wing making it."

"I think you were reading my mind, Jo," Henry said after taking a sip of tea. "I was just wondering what he'd used to season it."

Adam smiled and buttered a slice of bread. "Salt and black pepper, paprika, cayenne pepper, garlic, and ground ginger. All of them are very good for colds and the like."

Henry would never admit it to anyone, but since starting to eat the soup, he could feel his sinuses clearing. The relief was wonderful.

Talk turned to other dishes that Adam knew how to make, and Jo shared what recipes she knew, and when asked, Henry had to admit that Abe did most of the cooking for them.

"I can cook simple things, but I really think Abe enjoys feeding people," he admitted. "He found his mother's recipe book not long ago, and we've been enjoying recipes out of that. Her lasagna is...exquisite."

"Wow. Exquisite lasagna," Jo said with a smile. "Really?"

"Really," Henry confirmed. "One bite, and I wanted to dance with a beautiful woman."

"When a dish makes you want to do that, then you know it's exquisite," Adam said.

"Any other recipes that have made you want to dance, Henry?" Jo asked.

"Butterscotch cake," Henry answered. "With frosting."

"That cake Abe served at your birthday party?" Jo asked, her mouth watering at the memory. "Mmmm."

By this time, their soup was a fond memory, and Adam returned to the stove to carry over three ramekins filled with creme brulee. Henry smiled at Jo's happy face as she broke the sugar on the top and dug in. Henry took one bite of the creme brulee and smiled. It was perfect!

"It's good to see you smile, Henry," Adam said. "Feeling better?"

"Somewhat," he admitted. "Instead of mostly dead, I feel somewhat alive."

"Good," Jo said. "We'd miss you at the precinct if you had to take a lot of sick days."

"I would miss going to the precinct," Henry admitted. "Abe has quite a Florence Nightingale complex whenever someone's ill. He'd try to spend most of the day fussing over me if I stayed home. I'm told he gets it from his father." Henry could remember quite a few days when Abe had been ill and Henry had fussed over him. Like father, like son.

"I'm sure Abe's father was quite the healer," Adam remarked, getting up to clear the table. Without a word, he slipped a cover on the pot of soup, placed it in the refrigerator, and began to wash up. Jo got up to help him, and Henry, feeling remiss in his duties as a host, grabbed a towel and started drying. In no time the kitchen had been put to rights and they settled in the sitting room with more tea.

"Where is Abe?" Jo asked, stirring her tea. "I just realized he wasn't here."

"An antiques show out of town," Henry answered. "No doubt he'll come back with a truckload of new merchandise to put in the shop and a souvenir or two."

A cell phone ringing startled all of them, and Jo answered it. "Detective Martinez."

Henry and Abe both fell quiet as Jo took her phone call into the other room. She came back a minute later, looking troubled. "I'm sorry to run out like this, but I've got to go in," she said, pulling on her jacket.

"Of course," Henry said, getting to his feet to see her out. "Anything I can do?"

"You can stay here and rest up for Monday," Jo answered. "Seriously, Henry. Focus on getting better. What would I and the precinct do if you keeled over and died?"

"Ha, ha," Henry said bleakly. "I'll see you on Monday, Jo."

Jo gave him a final smile as they reached the front door. "Take care, Henry. Feel better soon."

"Thanks, Jo."

As soon as Jo was gone, Henry turned and tore through the shop and up the stairs, determined to have it out with Adam over this home invasion. As Henry had good cause to know, it was NOT FUNNY when a dangerous psychopath let himself into your home!

"You are leaving now," Henry said as he reached the living room. "And give me that key!"

Adam set his cup of tea aside and smiled at him. "What are you going to do, Henry, wrestle it away from me?"

"If that's what it takes," Henry snapped.

"Don't be childish, Henry," Adam said. "You should go to bed. I can see myself out."

"You'll give me that key, and then you'll get out!" Henry persisted. A second later he started to feel dizzy and he dropped heavily into a chair.

"A little something I added to your last cup of tea," Adam said chummily as he approached Henry. "Not to worry, it's just a light sleeping pill. You'll sleep like a baby through the night. Come on."

"Damn you," Henry muttered as Adam pulled him to his feet and draped one of Henry's arms over his shoulders.

"You wouldn't be the first to say that, Henry," Adam said as he helped Henry down the hall to his room.

In next to no time, Adam had helped him out of his robe and tucked him into bed. "Good night, Henry. Sleep well."

"Go away," Henry groaned. "And leave your key!"

A chuckle was the only reply.

* * *

Henry woke up the following morning with his headache gone and a burning hatred for Adam. He got up, searched the house, but he could find no sign of Adam or any sign of a spare house key. Cursing under his breath, Henry showered, dressed, and pulled out the phone book. He had to have the wretched locks changed as soon as possible, or Adam might think to come back. He managed to find a locksmith open on a Sunday and arranged for the man to come that afternoon. Then, he called and left a message for Abe letting him know that there was no reason to worry, but their locks had had to be changed and Henry would have his new keys for him when he returned.

He reported to work on Monday with no word from Adam, thank goodness, but he felt it was only a matter of time. Jo greeted him, congratulating him on his recovery, and he headed to his office feeling as if that wretched dinner with Adam might have actually been worth it.

He didn't have much time to think about it, though, because they had a body for him. It was the body of a young man, disassembled with clinical precision. It was chilling and an altogether shocking bit of work. He spent the day slowly and meticulously putting the body back together and marveling at just how depraved someone had to be in order to desecrate the body of another to such a degree.

He returned home that evening, tired from his long day, and he was pleased to find no sign of Adam having been in either the shop or the house. He found himself warming up some soup for supper and toasting some bread, and to his surprise, he found another creme brulee in the refrigerator. He ate, still cursing Adam for invading his home, but oddly, he found no reason to throw the food out. He'd eaten it with no problem when Adam and Jo had been there, and he'd always been taught that it was very disrespectful to waste food. At any rate, it meant that he didn't have to cook. He went to bed that night feeling a bit more at peace with himself, but he still wished he could do something that upset Adam as much as Adam could upset him. Call him petty and vindictive, but so be it.

* * *

"So, do you want to tell me why we had to have the locks changed?" Abe asked on Tuesday evening.

Henry wished he didn't have to shatter Abe's sense of security, but it would serve no purpose to lie to him. "It turns out Adam had a key."

Abe stared at him. "What the hell?"

"I know," Henry said. "I have no idea how he got it, or when, but I have to admit that it was the biggest shock of my life to walk into our kitchen and find him there."

Abe blinked rapidly several times. "The_ biggest_ shock of your life?"

Henry gave him a wry smile. "All right, perhaps not the biggest, but close to it."

"Uh-huh," Abe said thoughtfully. "Have you heard from him since?"

"No," Henry admitted. "Call me mad, but I actually worry when he fails to keep in touch with me. It makes me think he's plotting something."

"Ah, I'm not worried," Abe stated calmly.

Henry stared at his son. "You're not?"

"Nah," Abe said. "My reading of Adam is that he's got a reason for everything he does. His having our key might be just so he could get to you in case he needed to. Your being sick might have been it."

"I can't really see Adam as a ministering angel," Henry reminded him.

"I can't, either," Abe confessed. "Still, he must have had his reasons. Thanks, though, for getting the locks changed. I know I'll sleep better for it tonight."

"As will I," Henry said. "Tell me about your trip. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"I found lots of stuff," Abe said happily. "You know how many requests we've had for miniatures lately? Well, I found a bunch of them! We are going to have some very happy customers!"

"Wonderful!" Henry said as Abe opened two boxes to show him what he'd bought. "Oh, goodness, Abe, did you buy the vendors out?"

"Not even close," Abe said with a grin. "Those guys had so much of this stuff that they were practically giving it away! Look, I even found some miniature books!"

Henry fetched a pair of gloves and picked up one of the books, a matchbook-sized collection of illustrations from_ Alice in Wonderland_. The illustrations were hand-tipped and the cover was genuine leather. Henry felt as if he were holding a small fortune in his hands. "Amazing."

"Speaking of books, I found the perfect souvenir for you," Abe said, opening up his suitcase. "Take a look at this!" So saying, he handed Henry a book well over a century old. Fading gold leaf on the cover read _Home Remedies_.

Smiling, Henry opened the book and began flipping through it. "Oh, thank you, Abe." He stopped and stared at a paragraph on cod liver oil and shuddered. "Ooh, I remember the taste of cod liver oil all too well. Whenever I seemed the slightest bit out of sorts I would be forced to have a spoonful."

"Yeah, I don't think that's a home remedy you need anymore, Dad," Abe chuckled. "However, I saw a couple tea recipes in there that sounded good."

"Let's find out," Henry said with a grin. With that, he headed toward the kitchen.

He was putting the final touches on a batch of cinnamon tea when he heard the doorbell ring. Immediately he left the kitchen and ran downstairs, thinking of Adam. "Abe?"

"Just a courier," Abe said, signing the man's clipboard and tipping him. "It's for you."

Henry took the envelope Abe handed him and opened it. Inside was a key, an index card, and a letter. "It's from Adam."

"What's it say?"

"_As requested, here is my key_," Henry read aloud. "_Please find enclosed the recipe Detective Martinez requested. No bribe is required. See you soon_."

"Uh-huh." Abe did not sound surprised.

"I think Adam is the only person earth who can make a promise sound like a threat," Henry lamented. "Let's go have that tea."


End file.
